


Bury The Hatchet

by DodgerBear



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 04:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19418077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DodgerBear/pseuds/DodgerBear
Summary: Mickey gets a request from Terry in prison and goes looking for closure.





	Bury The Hatchet

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts 🧡

Ian was not impressed when Mickey told him he’d received a call from his old PO, Jeff. His first thought was that Mickey was getting heat for some shit that had gone down in the neighborhood again. It wouldn’t be the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time they tried to get him for something dumb, like Mickey didn’t have a whole world of good going on in his life that meant going back to prison was at the very bottom of his to-do list. 

Ian was even less impressed when Mickey told him that Jeff didn’t want him to explain his whereabouts at a certain time on a certain day, but he was inviting him to Pendleton Correctional Facility to visit one of their inmates. 

“Where the fuck is Pendleton?” Ian groused. 

“Indiana. About half an hour outside of Indianapolis.” Mickey answered calmly over a gourmet meal of chicken nuggets and fries. 

“And why does he want you to go there?”

Mickey chewed his food slowly, fully aware that this was probably the last bite of food he was going to have that night. “Because Terry is there. He wants to see me.”

There was a long, drawn out pause before Ian reacted. When it came it was worth the wait. 

“No fucking way!” He yelled, going red in the face. 

Mickey laughed sarcastically. “I’m sorry. Did I miss the part where you get to make my decisions for me?”

“We make decisions _together_.” Ian ground out. “And this one is a definite no fucking way.”

Mickey closed his eyes in distress. “Look Ian, I know how you feel about him. Believe me. Whatever you feel you can double it at least for me. But he’s never asked to see me before. I need to know.”

“What if it’s an ambush? He can’t get to you when he’s inside so he’s getting you to go to him...” Ian ranted, pacing around their small kitchen anxiously. 

Mickey reached out a hand to grab his arm and slow him down. “He could get to me. Even when he’s inside. He knows plenty of people who would pop to the South Side and beat a fag to death for a couple packs of smokes and a bottle of Jack.”

Ian knew the truth in that statement. Wherever Terry ended up he knew people. They took care for the first few years but when Terry didn’t come after them they felt safer. They were able to be a family and raise Yev like a normal family unit. Now, this phone call was threatening all of that and it made Ian sick to his stomach. 

Ian stopped in front of Mickey and looped his arms around his neck. He leaned closer so their foreheads touched. 

“I couldn’t take it if anything happened to you.” He whispered hollowly. 

Mickey’s hands found Ian’s waist and squeezed gently. “Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise.”

“Can I come with you?”

“You can come but they won’t let you in the room with us. You’d have to wait outside. It’s a long fuckin drive just to wait in the car.” 

Ian chuckled softly at Mickey’s warning. “You still think there’s anything I wouldn’t do for you?”

Mickey grinned shyly and hugged into Ian. “Guess not.”

“Love you, Mick. If you’re going in there I’m sure as hell gonna be the first person you see when you get out.” Ian assured him. 

Mickey just held on a little tighter until their food was cold. 

Mickey did all of the driving when they made the trip to Madison County, Indiana a week later. He needed to keep his hands occupied to stop from fidgeting and Ian was a strictly safe driver so wouldn’t let Mickey give him a blowjob if he was doing the driving. As it was, Ian rested his large hand on Mickey’s thigh and hummed along to the radio while Mickey drove mostly in silence. Just over halfway there Mickey couldn’t take the heat of Ian’s hand so close to his crotch any longer and grabbed it. Ian glanced sideways in surprise but smirked when Mickey placed it back down on him, this time resting over the bulge in his jeans. 

“You okay there baby?” Ian asked innocently. 

Mickey rolled his eyes at the endearment but didn’t argue. Sometimes when Ian called him baby it gave him a shiver. This was one of those times. He lifted his hips sharply to get some friction and Ian squeezed gently. Mickey’s mouth fell open. “Oh wow.”

“Your way of dealing with stress is kinda fucked up, Mick.” Ian chuckled and deftly popped the button on Mickey’s jeans. He slowly, teasingly lowered the zipper and reached his hand inside. 

“Fuck you’re hard.” He groaned. 

Mickey shuffled down in his seat and gripped the steering wheel for dear life. 

“Fuck Gallagher...”

“Eyes on the road, Mick. Don’t want any nasty accidents.” Ian clicked his tongue in warning. 

“There’s gonna be a nasty accident in my pants if you don’t get my dick out right now.” Mickey snapped in reply. 

Ian giggled in delight. “Alright. So bossy.”

Mickey mumbled an expletive or ten when Ian followed his orders and released his cock from the confines of his pants. The cool air hit the heated flesh and Mickey gasped. 

“Blow me.” 

Ian raised his brows. “Say please.”

Mickey shot him and glare but grit his teeth and spoke harshly. “ _Please_ Ian. Blow me.”

Ian’s eyes danced with happiness. “My pleasure. You gonna be able to drive or you wanna pull over?”

“Now.”

“You sure? Cuz you always want me to fuck you after I blow you...” Ian taunted. 

The car tires squealed as Mickey swerved into a lay-by on the side of the road and hit the brakes. 

“Jesus Christ Gallagher. You just gotta blow me. We’re out in the open here!”

“When has that ever stopped us? See that over there?”

Mickey stared into the distance and saw a building way ahead. “What is it?”

“Truck stop. We can park up out of the way.”

Mickey glanced down at his raging erection and whimpered. “I’m so fuckin horny.”

“Me too. But I wanna be inside you. Come on. Drive up there.”

The drive was quick because Mickey put the pedal to the floor and made it to the back corner of the truck stop lot in a few minutes. His hard on hadn’t abated during the drive and Ian ducked his head to take him into his mouth before the engine was even cut. 

“Oh holy fuck.” Mickey grunted and ran his fingers through Ian’s short red hair. “You suck my dick so good.”

“Grab the lube.” Ian ordered and Mickey reached under the seat to their emergency supply. The small tube was in the place they left it and he handed it off to Ian, who wasted no time slicking up his fingers and using them on his partner. Mickey’s hips bucked wildly when Ian’s fingers found their target and pressed inside him, slowly but firmly. His muscle memory was so on point by now that he recognized the familiar touch and opened up to Ian immediately. Ian stretched him open while he licked carefully at Mickey’s dick. He knew his partner well enough to tell that he was on the edge and sucking his dick would tip him over before they got to the main event. 

“Want to come like this?” Ian whispered gently. 

Mickey tightened his hold on Ian’s hair. “Need you in me.”

Ian smiled widely and sat up. “Okay. Stay there.”

Mickey looked down at his crotch with his jewels on display and raised his hands. “Sure. Not like I was going anywhere.”

Ian jumped out of the car and made his way to the driver side. He opened the door and grabbed Mickey by the hips, yanking him around so his legs were hanging out. 

“Jesus Gallagher. Is anyone around?”

“Nope. Nobody anywhere near. We’re at least a five minute walk from the nearest truck.” Ian replied confidently and lifted Mickey’s legs up to his chest. “You ready for me?”

“Fuck yeah.” Mickey answered and before the words were out Ian had filled him up. 

“Oh holy fuckin fuck.” Ian exhaled as the sensation overwhelmed him. “You feel so good Mick. So good.”

“Fuck me, Gallagher. I wanna come before the cops pick us up and give me a cell next to Daddy dearest.” Mickey huffed. 

Ian thrust hard into Mickey. “Don’t talk about him when my dick is inside you.”

Mickey laughed musically and snapped his hips back at Ian on every thrust. “I’m close.”

“Me too.” Ian replied and reached his hand between their bodies to grasp Mickey’s achingly hard dick. His hand was still slick from the lube and Mickey’s eyes rolled back in his head when Ian began to jerk his cock. 

“Ian...” Mickey mumbled his real name and Ian knew it was over. He allowed himself to give in to the tingling in the base of his spine and fought to stop his eyes closing as his climax took over his body. He needed to see Mickey come undone beneath him. Just as he started to spill inside of his man he felt Mickey come all over his hand. The car filled with the muted grunts and moans of the couple reaching their peak. Their eyes were locked and Mickey still amazed himself that he was able to have this level of intimacy with another human being. But Ian wasn’t really human, was he? He was Mickey’s superhero, sent to save him from all enemies. Including the one waiting for him at the other end of this road trip. 

“Shit Mickey. That was good.” Ian grinned lazily. 

Mickey chuckled and made a move to get cleaned up. “It’s always good.”

Ian leaned down and pecked Mickey’s lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Gallagher.” 

It took Mickey almost an hour to get through all of the checkpoints and scanners that stood between him and the man he’d traveled to see. He couldn’t help but think it was easier to get into prison by committing a felony than it was to simply visit an inmate. Once he’d been scanned and patted down in places that only Ian had touched for the last however many years, he was led into a small room and greeted by a stout man in his fifties with salt and pepper hair. 

“Mikhailo Milkovich?”

“That’s me.” Mickey adjusted his clothes after his rough welcome by the guards. 

“I’m Officer Parnell. You’re here to see...”

“My piece of shit sperm donor, yeah.” Mickey cut him off in the hope of hurrying him. “Can we move this along? I gotta four hour drive back home after this.”

The de-stressing fuck at the truck stop was wearing off fast. Mickey fought to hide a smirk when he thought about the long night Ian had ahead of him when they got home and the real de-stressing was needed. 

“Certainly.” Parnell said wryly. “So...let’s talk house rules. Though I’m sure you’re familiar.”

Mickey smirked at the man. “Sounds like you know all about me.”

“I know the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” Parnell muttered flippantly. 

Mickey stepped closer to the guard but not enough that he could justifiably hit the panic alarm. “Oh the apple fell, hit the ground and just kept on rolling, Sir.”

Parnell narrowed his eyes. “You will be alone in the room with the inmate. Guards will be able to see inside but will not be listening. No touching the inmate...”

Mickey scoffed at the thought of a reunion hug but Parnell just pressed on with a withering glare. 

“You want to leave you knock on the door. Understood?”

Mickey nodded once. “Sure.”

Parnell led him through another door and Mickey was surprised to find he was in the hospital wing. Sterile corridors and bright white lights were laid out in front of him. 

“This way.” Parnell motioned for him to follow and they stopped at a door with two uniformed guards outside. 

“This is the inmate’s son, Mikhailo.”

“Mickey.” The brunet cut in. “Just Mickey.”

“This is Tibbs and Roscoe. You need out, they’ll get you out. They see you getting too close to the inmate, they’ll be the ones putting a bullet in your ass.” Parnell warned. 

“Can we go for the right ass cheek, please guys? Still got shrapnel in my left from years back. A _literal_ pain in the ass when the winter comes.” Mickey grinned. 

He was nervous. Cocky dickhead Mickey always showed up when he was nervous. 

Parnell just smirked and shook his head. Mickey knew he was growing on him. 

“Ready?” He asked Mickey. 

“Nope. But let’s do it anyway.” Mickey shrugged. 

Terry was laying on a gurney with his wrists handcuffed to the metal rail on both sides. His hard features were lost in the wrinkles on his grey face. Terry looked like absolute shit. 

“Hey Terry. Nice digs.” Mickey greeted brightly. 

Terry licked his cracked lips. “Mickey.”

“That’s me. Although I think you liked the name Pole Smoker for me better.” 

“Funny.” Terry rolled his tired eyes. “Sit.”

“This gonna take long? I got shit to do.” Mickey sat down in the plastic chair next to Terry’s bed, avoiding the IV drip stand next to him. 

“Yeah? Like what?” Terry challenged, his voice croaky and dry. 

“Oh you know. Cook my kid’s dinner. Suck my boyfriend’s dick.” Mickey shrugged. 

Terry flinched. “Still shacked up with that ginger fruit loop?”

The humor and bravado evaporated instantly and Mickey jumped to his feet so fast the chair scraped loudly on the floor. “Don’t fuckin talk about him. Not a word. I swear to God I will kill you right now.”

“Sit down, you mouthy fucker. Jesus you never change do you?” Terry huffed. 

Mickey sank back into the seat but perched on the edge, ready to make a quick exit before he caved Terry’s head in with a bedpan. 

“You won’t have to kill me. I’m already dying.” Terry murmured hoarsely. 

Mickey was silent as the words reverberated in his brain. Finally he found his voice. 

“The fuck?”

“Cancer. In my pancreas. Should be quick. Normally don’t last more than a couple months with that type.”

Mickey listened to his simple explanation like it was happening to someone else. 

“Jesus.”

“I need to put my affairs in order.” Terry spoke quietly and Mickey knew he wasn’t about to talk about his Last Will and Testament. 

“Right. But why me? You’ve got more kids than Madonna kicking around. Why call the one you disowned?”

“I didn’t disown you.” Terry snapped, as if Mickey had somehow disrespected his family values. 

“You tried to kill me when I told you I was gay.” Mickey retorted dryly. “I think that’s the non-verbal way of disowning someone.”

“Jeez. Do you have to talk fuckin smart all the time?”

“Hey. I just wanna get to the facts here. Why am I here? Cuz you must know I’m not gettin involved in any illegal shit. I got my life together. Finally. I’m not risking it for you.”

Terry’s smirk twisted his tired face. He looked so old and weathered. 

“Nothing illegal. Sort of. I got some...assets. They were set aside for when I got out but that’s not gonna happen. So it’s time to make sure you know where to find them.”

Mickey stood up and paced around the small hospital room. “Again, why me? You don’t like me. Is this a set up? You’re gonna lead the cops to me when I’m picking up your shit so I end up doing time?”

“You think I’d do that?” Terry hissed in outrage. 

“YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!” Mickey yelled back at his father. 

The door opened and Roscoe appeared. His black eyes narrowed to pinpoints. 

“We got a problem in here?”

Mickey raised his hands placatingly. “Nope. Just reminding my old man of some good old days.”

Terry scowled but waved Roscoe off. “We’re fine.”

He left them alone and Mickey continued to pace. 

“You were always the smart one.” Terry finally spoke, a hint of admiration in his voice. “You had your head screwed on. Rarely got caught. Your brothers wouldn’t have survived without you running the show.”

“I’m touched.” Mickey replied sourly. 

“I got stuff at the old spot. You know it. Where we went for your first run. In the basement, behind a false wall. There’s a bag. Whatever is inside, it’s yours.” Terry mumbled, exhaustion creeping in. 

“Why would you want me to have it?” Mickey perched on the seat again. 

“You earned it. More than anyone else, you kept the money coming in. It’s yours.” Terry coughed. 

Mickey rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Don’t be a martyr Mickey. That stash could set you up for a good time.”

“You’re happy knowing I get your stash and I spend it on my kid and Ian?”

“Ian? That’s his name?” Terry muttered. 

“Yes. Ian Clayton Gallagher.” 

“Fuck. Forgot he’s Frank’s kid. You couldn’t do better than that trash?” Terry almost teased. 

“His family say the same to him. Apples and oranges huh.” Mickey retorted. 

Terry coughed harshly, pain ripping through his body and painting his face. It took a moment for Terry to settle back down and Mickey was surprised to find he took no pleasure from seeing the man in front of him in agony. 

“Been a while with him. Right?”

“Yeah. A long ass time.”

“He make you happy?”

Mickey snorted loudly. “You give a shit if I’m happy?”

“Maybe.” Terry retorted. “This is what death beds are for, right?”

Mickey actually laughed. “I guess so.”

He gazed at his father withering away in front of him. It wasn’t like he thought it would be. All the times he’d wished Terry dead over the years had made him sure this moment would be the sweetest feeling in the world. Like, so good he’d want to bottle the feeling and use it on days when he needed a little pick up. But it wasn’t like that at all. He looked at the person who had caused him the most pain in his life and all he felt was...empty. He didn’t have a burning desire to ask questions or get an apology. He just wanted to hear Terry say his bit and get back to his life. The daily, mundane routine he’d made with Ian where they went to work and ate dinner and took care of Yev, who might just be the smartest and most loving 11 year old in the whole of Chicago. That’s what Mickey craved more than anything. 

“He makes me happy.” He confirmed softly. 

“Good.” Terry licked his lips again. “That’s good.”

“Yeah. He’s always looked out for me. Always looked out for the kid. Even when I was fucked up and didn’t know how to look after my own son. He was there. We’re a family.”

Terry winced like it pained him to hear that. Mickey saw and bristled with annoyance. 

“You ever loved someone Terry? You ever cared about someone so much that their happiness is more important than your own?” He challenged him. 

Terry sighed heavily. “Look...I’m not...your mom...”

“You loved my Mom?” Mickey spat with a dark laugh. “Bullshit. You made her life hell. You kept her doped up and you knocked her around until she overdosed just to get away from you.”

Terry’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Finally he shook his head. 

“I guess not.”

Mickey nodded along. “That really sucks.”

Silence filled the room. Only the sound of the drip working could be heard. Mickey finally spoke when the silence drew on too long. 

“How long?”

“Until your victory parade? Less than three months.”

Mickey’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “My _victory_ parade? You think this is a win for me? Fuck Terry. That’s some fucked up shit.”

Terry met his gaze. “I thought you’d be happy.”

Mickey took a breath. “I woulda been happy if you didn’t knock me around when I was a kid. Or if you didn’t damn near kill me and make Ian watch while I fucked a hooker because you caught us together.”

Terry squinted like he was trying to remember and that only made Mickey even more angry. That morning was burned into his brain forever and Terry could barely recall it even happened. 

“I would be happy if I had a normal dad. One that could understand that having someone love me like Ian does is more important than whether or not he’s got a pussy. One that comes to my kid’s sports day and cheers him on like a regular grandparent would do. None of this makes me happy, Terry.” Mickey ranted in muted anger. “My family makes me happy. And you ain’t family.”

Terry sighed softly and licked at his lips again. “I know.”

“The funny thing is...you’d actually like Ian. I mean, it’s hard not to. The guy’s got charm comin outta his ears. But you’d talk to him about the Sox, about how shitty Frank is. You’d get along. All you had to do was give him a chance.” Mickey laughed in disbelief. 

Terry stared at him and Mickey stared back, unafraid. 

“I’m sorry, Mickey.”

The words were spoken so quietly but they were as loud as a firework in his ears. 

“What for?”

“All of it. I’m sorry for not...trying.” Terry croaked. 

Mickey nodded. “Yeah. You missed out.”

“You’re the only one with a family. All the others...got kids all over but no family...or in jail...Mandy is fuck knows where...you’re the one settled down. I don’t understand the fag thing. I just don’t. But I’m sorry I never tried.”

Mickey nodded again. “Me too.”

Terry closed his eyes. Mickey thought he was asleep but he finally spoke again. 

“Go to the spot. Get what’s yours. Don’t be a martyr. You earned it.”

Mickey stood up and edged to the end of the bed. “Goodbye Terry.”

“Thanks for coming, Mickey.”

Parnell walked Mickey out of the prison himself and stopped at the outer gate. They could both see Ian leaning against the hood of their car, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles and his red hair catching the late afternoon sun. He smiled reassuringly at Mickey and the brunet gave him a small wave before turning to Parnell. 

“He the reason Terry tried to kill you?”

Mickey tilted his head. “Thought you weren’t listening in...”

“The walls aren’t that thick. I heard the things you yelled.” Parnell smirked. 

Mickey glanced back at Ian. “Yeah. He’s the reason.”

Parnell clicked his tongue sympathetically. “Some people have very strange priorities.”

Mickey laughed softly. “Sure.”

Parnell moved to lock the gate. “Have a safe trip home.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mickey walked away from him slowly and into Ian’s waiting embrace. He knew Parnell was still watching but he couldn’t give a fuck if the whole of Pendleton turned out to watch him. Ian held him close and pressed a steadying hand to the middle of Mickey’s back. 

“Everything okay?” Ian mumbled. 

Mickey pulled back and smiled up at Ian. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

Ian pecked Mickey’s lips and smiled. “Love you.”

On the car ride, with Ian driving and Mickey holding his hand tightly, the older man explained what the visit was all about. Ian was completely stunned. 

“He said _sorry_?”

“Yup. Dunno what I was expected but it sure as fuck wasn’t that.” Mickey laughed. 

“What are you gonna do about the stash? You know what it is? Drugs. Guns?”

Mickey sighed. “Not sure. Won’t be much though. Unless Terry chose to make us live in abject poverty because it was character building.”

Ian chuckled at Mickey’s use of more extensive vocabulary. He’d come a long way from the high school drop out he first met. 

“Fuck it. Let’s check it out.” Mickey decided. 

“You’re the boss.” Ian winked. 

Mickey directed Ian to an abandoned bar on the outskirts of town in Gary, Indiana. This was where his father did most of his business dealings and where Mickey came on his first ever run. 

“How old were you?” Ian asked when he followed Mickey down the broken hatch into the basement. 

“Uh...maybe nine. Can’t remember. My mom was still alive and she died when I was ten, so before that.” Mickey answered and led them to the back corner of the damp basement. He missed the look of shock and horror on Ian’s face as he felt around for the brick he knew would move and open up the false wall. It took a few minutes but eventually he managed to push the wall back out of alignment and reached behind. 

“Bingo.”

Ian helped him haul out a large black gym bag and lay out on the floor. 

“Thing we should just grab it and go? Just in case this is a set up...” Ian looked around the room. 

“Nah. Let’s see what it is. I’m not carrying guns or drugs across state lines.”

Mickey opened the bag and gasped when he saw it contained money. 

“Jesus Christ.” Ian exhaled. “What the fuck?”

Mickey gazed up at Ian. “There’s about twenty grand in here.”

“Fuck.” Ian repeated. “I guess the psycho fucker really did think poverty was character building.”

Mickey smirked and zipped up the bag. “Let’s go.”

By the time the guys reached home they knew exactly what they were going to spend the money on. Yevgeny. He was finally going to have that trip to Disneyland that Ian wanted to take him on, just this time in the right way. He was going to have his bedroom redecorated in whatever theme was currently his favorite, although Mickey and Ian knew already he was going to pick the solar system. The kid was a cute nerd. The rest of the money was going to be his college fund. He’d be the first Milkovich in college so he deserved whatever help he could get. Even if it came from the monster than inadvertently gave him life. It was easy to be mad at Terry for a lot of things. The way he treated his kids. What he did to Ian. What he did to Mandy. But it was tough to look at Yev and see anything other than a blessing. Mickey wanted nothing from Terry, but he wanted everything for his son and he wasn’t above taking the proceeds of Terry’s life of crime to make that happen. Besides, Terry was right. Mickey _had_ earned that money. 

“Coming to bed? It’s been a long day.” Ian smiled from the bathroom doorway, stripped to his boxers. 

Mickey smirked widely. “Gonna get a whole lot longer.”

Ian stalked towards his man and grabbed him up in a sweeping hug, pressing his lips to Mickey’s neck and sucking hard. “Love you.”

When the call came from Parnell exactly nine weeks later, Mickey felt a whooshing sense of relief. It was over. The demon in his life was gone. His eyes were dry and his throat tight. 

“You okay?” Parnell asked into the silence. 

“Yup. All good.” Mickey coughed. 

“Look, kid. If you want me to say the guy had no next of kin we can get him a funeral here. Just a prayer and a fire. You don’t have to get involved.” Parnell offered. 

Mickey knew then that the head of the prison had done his research on the Milkovich family. 

“It’s okay, sir. I’ll handle the arrangements. Thank you.” Mickey replied. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Only gonna be able to relax when I see him in the ground.” Mickey chuckled harshly. 

They hung up and Mickey looked over at Ian and Yev where they sat at the kitchen table doing the kid’s homework. It was like a cloud lifting and the sun was shining. 

“You okay baby?” Ian smiled. 

Mickey rolled his eyes and smiled back. “I’m great.”


End file.
